Bright Star
Me & the Lama, Near Bear Mountain



Bright Star


Because our boat was enveloped
In sealing wax, I felt safe
When storms flared-up. I was stowed
Below deck, stashed inside
A tea chest. Lotus scent
Was swell for bitter lungs.
When we hit upon a patch
Of balmy sea the crew lashed me
To the mast so I could see well
Into the Milky Way's buzz.
When the gaslights of Naples burned
The horizon, the ship's surgeon
Bombproofed my body for customs.
He spooned lavender oil
Into my ears and stuffed my nose
With tobacco. Violin strings
Replaced my hairs. He wielded
An ivory needle dripping
Octopus ink to tattoo my chest:
Swoonworthy. At sunrise
A dinghy rowed me to shore
And left me, like a love letter.

Me & the Lama, Near Bear Mountain

Picture me outside Dunkin' Donuts
In the parking lot in moonlight

Bright as gypsum
Throwing glazed Munchkins

At blue pigeons when
A motorcade sweeps in

Black Hummers and a Lamamobile
Equipped with a bullet-proof bubble

A security team spreads out
Their earpieces wiggle

Like brain-sucking beetles
Suddenly

A saffron robed man bursts
From his pop-o-matic dome

We hastily form a reception line
As he issues a blessing

And removes his bare hands
From his faux-fur lined muff

To shake our mittens
And smile

He smiles at me
And brushes his thumb over my lip

Powdered sugar
He thinks and licks his thumb

And everyone laughs
And his pupils dilate

Now we are stoned

In the parking lot in moonlight
Each goes his own way.